Requiem for a Dream
by redbeangurl
Summary: Six months have passed since the fight with Enishi, and the Kamiya Dojo is slowly getting back to normal again. But with the arrival of four strangers from Kenshin's past, the peace they've fought so hard to win is threatened once again.
1. Sakabatou

_Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki and Viz comics, not me. I am just borrowing him for my own, perverse, and totally non-profit amusement. ^_^x _

This fic contains MAJOR SPOILERS for the Jinchuu arc of the Rurouni Kenshin manga! If you want to get caught up before reading, you can find translations of the manga at Maigo-chan's site: maigo-chan . org / ruroken . htm [you have to take out the spaces...grr, ff . net]  
  
  


  
Requiem for a Dream  
**Chapter One: Sakabatou**  


  
  
***  
_  
"It was an accident. An _accident_. He didn't mean..."  
  
"Yeah, well, that just makes it worse, doesn't it?"_  
  
***  
  
"MEN!"   
  
Kaoru caught his shinai easily between her wrists, and with a sigh she jerked them to the side and sent her student flying across the room.  
  
"You know," she said, caught somewhere between frustration and amusement. "It's been half a year since I taught this to you, Yahiko."  
  
"I KNOW THAT," he growled, scrambling to his feet. "And I got it down after a week!"  
  
"True," she said. "But you still can't get through my own Hawatari, can you?"  
  
"It's a succession technique! It's _supposed_ to be unbeatable!"  
  
Kaoru smirked. "Shows how much you know."  
  
"Ah, excuse me..."  
  
The two of them looked up, lowering their shinai and relaxing their stance. The door had been slid aside, and Kenshin stood with his shoulder against the frame. The time since Enishi's departure had been kind to him, easing the tension from his shoulders and lines from his face. He was smiling, his eyes bright with humor, and his loosely tied hair gleamed red-gold in the afternoon sunlight. He was, Kaoru felt, extraordinarily handsome.  
  
Immediately after thinking this, she felt her face go hot and pretended to be interested in the tatami.  
  
"Kenshin!" Yahiko ran up him, thrusting his shinai forward. "Show me how to get through Kaoru's Hawatari, eh?"  
  
Kenshin laughed, waving him off. "I don't know if Kaoru-dono would appreciate that."  
  
"N-no," she managed, still hiding her face as best she could. "No, I don't mind. It's about time he learned..." She swallowed and looked up again, praying that the redness had left her cheeks. "Do you want to attack or defend?"  
  
"I'm only a casual observer of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu," said Kenshin, taking Yahiko's shinai. He hefted it carefully with his right hand, holding it flat on his palm, testing the balance. "And its succession techniques are your particular specialty." He smiled again, soft and warm, and gripped the hilt of the shinai. "I will attack."  
  
Kaoru nodded once, all business again, and assumed her former stance. "Ready," she said.  
  
Though she knew it was coming, Kenshin's sudden rush of movement still caught her by surprise. He had checked his speed for the sake of Yahiko's observation, but he knew better than to go easy on Kaoru, and the borrowed shinai came toward her with enough force to dislocate her shoulder if she mistimed her response.  
  
Her arms flew from her sides, her wrists meeting above her head just in time to block his attack and then twisting sharply to her right. The idea was to use her attacker's own strength and momentum to pull him into a fall, as had been the case with Yahiko all that morning. But the shinai moved too easily between her wrists and she was thrown off balance. Before she could recover, her left leg shot out from under her, and with most of her weight already on her right side, she lost control entirely and toppled over onto the mats.  
  
Lying on her back, she took a moment to stare at the ceiling, catch her breath, and evaluate what had just happened. Kenshin had let go of his of his shinai, and then hooked his foot behind her left leg. A simpler approach than she would have thought, but demonstrably effective. And totally in keeping with the more passive sword style of Kamiya Kasshin.   
  
Kenshin's smiling face leaned in over her. "Are you all right, Kaoru-dono?"  
  
She took the hand he offered and let him pull her to her feet. He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face, his fingertips lingering on her cheek a few heartbeats longer than was necessary. She could feel another blush coming on.   
  
"Looks easy enough," said Yahiko, scooping his shinai up off the floor, and for once Kaoru was grateful for the interruption. "Here, I wanna try!"  
  
There was barely time for Kenshin to move out of the way before Yahiko came charging forward again, his cry of "MEN!" announcing another attack to the head.  
  
Kaoru grinned, caught the bamboo blade between her wrists, felt him release it, and brought it around to whack him on the side of the head before he had time to do any footwork.  
  
"Too slow," she admonished, shaking her head.   
  
"Ugly," he growled from the tatami.  
  
***  
  
Kenshin slipped out of the dojo, his exit unnoticed in the midst of Kaoru and Yahiko's latest brawl. He had gone there to tell them that lunch was ready, but it seemed they needed more time to properly tire themselves out. Eventually they would get hungry, and then they'd seek him out on their own. In the meantime, there were chores to do.  
  
He eyed the pile of laundry warily. It had been one of his constant duties since he'd first arrived at the Kamiya dojo last year, and he didn't mind it especially. It wasn't any more or less tedious than scrubbing floors or pulling weeds or tending the fire that heated water for their baths. But it was daily, and it was tiresome, and it offered an intimate knowledge of everyone's underthings that Kenshin could have cheerfully done without. Yahiko, in particular, would have benefitted from a few basic lessons in hygiene.  
  
Regardless, as Kenshin contributed nothing to the dojo's finances, aside from the new students attracted by his reputation, he felt it best to do what he was asked without complaint. Cheerfully, even, if he could manage it.   
  
He had no trouble keeping his spirits up that afternoon. It was a beautiful day, cool and crisp. The sky was the pale, cloudless blue of early winter, and the air smelled of woodsmoke and pine. Humming softly to himself, he tied back the sleeves of his gi and set to work.  
  
Soon the yard was hung with dripping linens that swayed in breeze. Every so often the sounds of training from the dojo were joined by voices from the street, the crunch of cartwheels on gravel beyond the gate, or scattered notes of birdsong from the trees. Kenshin sank pleasantly into the rhythm of his work, his movements methodical and precise. Scrub the worn cotton cloth in well water and soap. Wring it dry. Pull it taut with a snap. Hang it carefully on the bamboo frame and fasten it in place. The task was so familiar that his hands moved almost of their own accord, leaving his mind free to drift back to the dojo, and to the people inside. One person especially.  
  
He was halfway through Kaoru's tabi when a shadow fell over the basin.   
  
"Ken-san?"   
  
He looked up, squinting a bit in the light. "Tsubame-dono," he said warmly. "How are you?"  
  
Tsubame smiled shyly, averting her eyes. "Tae wanted to speak with Kaoru-san," she said softly. "We have to be back at the Akabeko in a little while, but I thought I might say hello to Yahiko Chan." She pulled at the hem of her uniform. "Is he here?"  
  
"Kaoru and Yahiko are both practicing," said Kenshin, laying the last of the tabi out to dry. "If they're finished, perhaps you and Tae would join us for lunch?"  
  
"Lunch?" Yahiko poked his head out into the yard. His hair was sticking up even more than usual, and there were little bits of straw from the tatami caught in it. "Hey, Tsubame!" he called with a wave. "You staying?"  
  
"Ah...I don't..."  
  
"We'd love to," said Tae, pushing the door to the dojo aside the rest of the way. Kaoru jogged up behind her, but before she could join Kenshin in the yard Tae caught her by end of her ponytail.   
  
"Ow! What?" said Kaoru, rubbing the back of her head with a scowl.  
  
"You're all sweaty!" hissed Tae.   
  
"I was practicing!" Kaoru whispered fiercely.  
  
"Do you want to be his landlord until you're sixty?" Tae snatched the shinai out of her hands. "Go take a bath and get dressed!"  
  
"I am dressed..."  
  
"You know what I mean!"  
  
"Ah..." The girls looked up. Kenshin was watching them with a vaguely worried expression. "Is everything all right?"  
  
"Fine," said Kaoru shortly. "Go on and get started without me...I'll be right back..." With a final glare at Tae she stalked off toward the house, grumbling under her breath.  
  
She knew Tae meant well. Half of Asakusa neighborhood meant well, telling her she should stop running around playing swordsman and covered in sweat, that she should let someone else run the dojo, that she should act like a woman her age was expected to. She should save up for a nicer kimono, wear a little makeup, do something with her hair...  
  
"Try a little harder," she murmured, frowning at herself in her mother's old mirror. A lukewarm bath and a flurry of silk later, she was as close to Tae's version of presentable as she was ever going to be. "If I tried a little harder, he'd love me, right?" She sighed, tugging at the indigo ribbon in her hair. "It's been almost a year...if he doesn't by now, he never will."  
  
"Kaoru?" Tae leaned into her room, a smile that was no doubt meant to be encouraging spread across her face. "Are you almost ready? Ken-san wanted to wait for you, but the kids are getting hungry."  
  
"Just a minute." She scrabbled around on her dresser, pushing aside odd coins, ribbons, combs and notes from her students. "I know I have some lipstick..."  
  
"It's nice to see you're giving in a little," said Tae pleasantly, reaching over and picking a pot of makeup out of the mess. "You would have fought me like a tiger if I'd tried to put this on you a few months ago."  
  
"I wasn't desperate a few months ago," Kaoru mumbled, willing herself not to fidget while Tae smeared color on her face.   
  
Tae bit her lip. "Is it that bad?"  
  
"I don't know," said Kaoru truthfully. "I know he cares about me, I know he loves me I just...don't know if he _loves_ me..."  
  
"He's rescued you from several homicidal maniacs," said Tae matter-of-factly. "Maybe your standards are too high."  
  
"He'd do that for anyone! That's..." She moaned and closed her eyes. "Dammit, that's why he's so fantastic..."  
  
"Hold still." Tae rubbed a little powder into her cheeks, thinking. "Has he ever kissed you?"  
  
"Once," said Kaoru miserably.   
  
"Really?" Tae looked surprised. "When?"  
  
"On the beach," said Kaoru. "After the fight with Enishi. While the others were busy with the police...he took me aside, and pulled me into his arms, and said..." Another tormented moan. "He said I was more important to him than anything, that he was never going to leave me again, and then he kissed me...and we stood there holding each other until Saito came over to ask about something."  
  
"And then..?"  
  
"And that's it!" Kaoru cried. "THAT'S IT! Oh, I mean he's held my hand a few times, and he touches me without really having a reason to, and he's always so wonderful and kind and polite and..." She dug her nails into the tatami, grinding her teeth. "Ugh, I can't STAND it!"  
  
"Well," said Tae carefully, putting the makeup aside and standing up. "I think he might be getting ready to make his move."  
  
Kaoru blinked up at her. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean that very soon, he'll put his nervousness aside and start treating you in a more appropriate manner."  
  
Very slowly, Kaoru pushed herself to her feet. When she and Tae were on level again, she said, "You talked to him, didn't you."  
  
Tae was immediately betrayed by her eyebrows, which shot up into her hairline. "Kaoru-san, I was just - "  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing much, really - "  
  
"I am the adjutant master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu," she said, her eyes dangerously narrow, "and I can beat you black and blue without breaking a sweat..."  
  
"Kaoru!"  
  
"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM?!"  
  
Tae swallowed hard and stared resolutely at her feet. "Do you promise not to be angry?"  
  
"No," said Kaoru flatly. "Tell me anyway."  
  
Tae attempted a casual sort of shrug. "I just told him that a beautiful, intelligent, talented girl of eighteen years isn't going to wait around forever."  
  
Kaoru leaned heavily against the wall, her face in her hands. "Oh, Tae, you didn't..."  
  
"Well, it's true, isn't it?"  
  
"Of course it isn't true! We both know I'm not going anywhere, Kenshin's the only man who'll even look at me..."  
  
"Hey, Ugly!"  
  
Kaoru screamed and spun around. Yahiko was in the window, looking bored and annoyed. "How long have you been there?" she gasped, breathing hard.  
  
"Long enough to know you're both nuts," said Yahiko. He frowned. "What's that all over your face?"  
  
"Nothing you need to worry yourself about," said Tae haughtily.  
  
"Whatever. You two coming out here or not? I'm starving."  
  
"We'll...be right out," said Kaoru, too out of sorts to even be angry at him. As soon as his head had disappeared again, she turned to Tae in desperation. "What should I say? What should I do?"  
  
"You don't have to do anything," said Tae, patting her gently on the arm. "Just sit and eat the lunch your man has made for you, and think about when you want the wedding to be."  
  
Kaoru groaned.  
  
***  
  
"Those girls are crazy," said Yahiko, plunking himself down on the porch again. "All they ever talk about is kissing."  
  
"Is that so?" said Kenshin, his voice shaking slightly with forced calm.   
  
"Yeah," said Yahiko. He gazed longingly at the plate of rice cakes on the table. "Hey, what did Tae say to you before she went back inside? You looked ready to throw up."  
  
"Did I?" Kenshin hitched a smile onto his face, hoping it didn't look as transparent as it felt. "Tae is concerned about Kaoru-dono, that's all."  
  
"Whatever," Yahiko grumbled, folding his arms on the table and resting his chin on top. "So long as they get out here so we can eat."  
  
Tsubame, who had watched their exchange in mute horror, leapt up from the table so quickly that she upset her teacup. "I'll go see if they're done," she squeaked, and set off for the house as fast as her kimono would allow.  
  
"Girls," Yahiko said again, shaking his head. "Totally insane."  
  
Again, Kenshin tried his best to smile. But as his insides were twisting themselves into knots, he suspected it came out as more of a grimace. Tae's words rang in his ears, more piercing with every repetition. _She's eighteen years old, Ken-san. She's not going to wait for you forever._  
  
_Eighteen_... His stomach clenched at the thought. _She's eleven years younger than you. You married a girl that age when you were fifteen. She was a toddler when you were fighting wars. She wants you to marry her and you're almost old enough to be her father...  
  
_"Hey, Kenshin, you all right?" said Yahiko with halfhearted concern. "You look kind of green."  
  
"I'm fine," said Kenshin tightly. His mind was spinning. _What were you planning to do? Wait for her to get older? Hope that she would be content with hand holding and longing glances until you worked up the nerve to do something about it? You can't pretend you're still a Rurouni. You fell apart when you thought she was dead, you're completely useless without her...it would kill you if you lost her again, and you're _going_ to if you don't -  
  
_"Finally!" Kenshin jumped a bit and looked up at Yahiko's voice. He was standing again, bouncing on his toes. "Jeez, I thought you three would never be done!"  
  
Steeling himself for the worst, Kenshin worked up the most convincing grin he could manage and turned to look over his shoulder.   
  
The sight of Kaoru hit him like a physical blow. In his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what the circumstances. Whether she was dressed in a gi and hakama for kendo lessons, or the kimono and obi she wore when they went into town, she glowed with an energy and intelligence that he'd long ago fallen in love with.  
  
But she had never looked like this before. Kenshin swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. He strongly suspected that Tae was responsible, and he was caught someplace between horror and gratitude. Either way, he felt that opening his mouth would be unwise -- he had no idea what would come out.  
  
Despite all this, Kenshin still had the presence of mind to notice that Kaoru's smile was wavering as much as his. It was also apparent that she wouldn't be moving at all if not for the fact that Tae was pushing her forward.  
  
"This looks delicious!" said Tae, a little too loudly.  
  
Kenshin managed to croak out something along the lines of "Thank you."  
  
Tae grabbed her ward by the arm and dragged her around to Yahiko's side of the table, arranging it so that the only empty space was directly next to Kenshin. After a moment's hesitation Kaoru knelt daintily at his side, stealing a glance out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"You look...very nice, Kaoru-dono," he rasped, dizzy with the scent of her.   
  
"So do you," she breathed.  
  
"Weird," Yahiko muttered, eyeing them both. "Pass the edamame, would you?"  
  
Kenshin pushed the bowl across the table, his eyes never leaving Kaoru's face. The others chatted idly as they ate, about work, lessons and the usual neighborhood gossip. But Kaoru stared silently at her untouched bowl, and Kenshin stared at her, cycling desperately through the same two fragments of thought: _I love her. She's not going to wait forever. I love her. She's not going to wait forever...  
  
_"Well! That was lovely, Ken-san, but we really must be getting back to the Akabeko," said Tae suddenly, snapping him back into the present. She was on her way to the gate already, Tsubame and Yahiko trailing along behind her. "Yahiko's going to work a shift this evening, so he won't be back until after dinner. Long after dinner. In fact, he might just stay with us tonight."  
  
"Hey, you didn't say -!"  
  
"Goodnight!" Tae called, and the gate clicked shut behind her.  
  
Kaoru and Kenshin sat in unmoving silence for what felt like an eternity.   
  
"You...you shouldn't let Tae bother you," said Kaoru, not looking up. "She's just...she means well..."  
  
"Kaoru-dono..."  
  
"You don't need to use the 'Dono' all the time," said Kaoru, barely above a whisper. "Just...just 'Kaoru' is fine..."  
  
"Kaoru..." He raised a tentative hand, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "Tae is right."  
  
"I know, I know, she just gets so excited about things and I tell her its not for her to worry about and..." Kaoru stopped, turning to him with wide eyes. "Wait...what?"  
  
"Tae is right," he said again, cupping her face. She leaned into his hand, her lips brushing against his palm, making him shudder. "You shouldn't have to wait for me. You're so young, and...so beautiful..." He closed his eyes. "I don't deserve you, Kaoru."  
  
"Kenshin..." she murmured, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.   
  
"Kaoru, I..." His mouth was dry. His heart was in his throat. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He was drowning in her closeness and it was all he could do just to keep himself on that porch, to stop himself from running away from what he knew he was about to say.  
  
He pulled her close, rested his forehead against hers, and said, "I love you."  
  
And then they kissed, and it was wonderful, and his arms went around her and her body was pressed against him and he would have given anything for the moment to last forever.  
  
Only it didn't. In fact, it didn't even last as long as it should have. Because only a few seconds after the blissful admission of their affection, there was a knock on the front gate.  
  
"Ignore it," said Kaoru, pulling back just far enough to allow for conversation.  
  
"Mmm..."  
  
Another knock, louder and more insistent than the first.  
  
"Probably just one of my students," Kaoru murmured, her hands twining in his hair.   
  
"Probably..."  
  
"Himura Kenshin! We demand that you show yourself!" The voice was muffled by distance and the gate itself, but it was enough to ruin the mood.   
  
"Who could that be?" asked Kaoru, standing up reluctantly.  
  
"I'm not sure," said Kenshin. "Wait here..."  
  
When he opened the gate, he was met with four men in their early twenties. They were dressed as swordsmen, and they were armed. Kenshin could feel their eyes flickering over him, taking in his red hair and his cross-shaped scar.  
  
"You are Himura Kenshin?"  
  
"Yes," said Kenshin evenly. "Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
"My name is Tanaka Yuki," he said, cold and formal. "My comrades and I were students of Saigo Takamori, and fought by his side in Satsuma."  
  
"I see," said Kenshin.  
  
"You remember us, then?"  
  
"I believe that I do," said Kenshin. "Your master was a friend of mine while he was alive."   
  
"Do you admit to swearing your allegiance to him during the final battle?"  
  
"I helped him when he was in need, yes."  
  
"Do you also admit to working for Okubu Toshimichi," Tanaka continued, shouting now, "thus betraying the trust Saigo placed in you?"  
  
"I spoke with Minister Okubu about a conflict of some importance in Kyoto," said Kenshin, measuring his words. "After his assassination, I decided to pursue the matter of my own accord."  
  
There were footsteps behind him, then, "Kenshin, what's going on..?"  
  
"Nothing you need to worry about, Kaoru," he said lightly, his eyes fixed on Tanaka. "There's just been a small misunderstanding. Please wait for me inside, all right?" He heard the door to the dojo slide open and closed.  
  
"We say that in allying yourself with Okubu, you did a great disservice to the memory of Master Saigo," said Tanaka, his voice low and dangerous. "And we demand your blood as retribution for this crime."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Kenshin, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. "I cannot allow that."  
  
He was outnumbered, and as students of Saigo Takamori these men were no doubt skilled with the sword. But though Kenshin liked to think of himself as modest, he knew his own strength. It would be a swift conflict, and he would win.  
  
"I don't enjoy fighting," he said. "I offer you the chance to leave without crossing blades."   
  
"We refuse," Tanaka grated, drawing his sword.  
  
Kenshin sighed. "Then you leave me no choice."  
  
There was a flash of sunlight on metal, a rush of air, the scratch of dirt under sandals. Two of Kenshin's attackers fell beneath the blunt edge of his sword, unconscious before they hit the ground. The hilt met the temple of the third.   
  
Tanaka was faster than the others. His foot shot out as Kenshin finished his swing, catching him in the wrist. Kenshin's sword slipped out of his fingers, spinning in the air for a fraction of a second before he caught hold of it again, then whirled around in a graceful arc to strike Tanaka on the back of his neck.  
  
There was a dull thud as Tanaka's body collapsed onto the packed earth of the yard. No more than five seconds had passed since the beginning of the fight, and Kenshin allowed himself a moment to be pleased with how quickly and cleanly he had handled it.  
  
He did not immediately notice that anything was wrong. He turned to the dojo, about to call out to Kaoru, to tell her it was over. His thoughts were already drifting back to the kiss they'd shared a few minutes before, to the laundry that still needed folding, and the dinner he was going to make.  
  
But then he smelled it. Tangy and sharp, like copper coins. And sickeningly familiar.  
  
And he saw it. Spots of moisture on the ground. On his hands. Dripping thick and red from his blade.  
  
His blade that was not held as it was supposed to be.   
  
***  
  
It could not have happened.  
  
He could not be dead.  
  
It simply wasn't possible.  
  
Kaoru had watched them from inside the dojo, her eye pressed to the crack between the wall and the door. She remembered Okubu well enough, and Saigo's name was passing familiar, but none of what the strangers had said made any sense. And then they were fighting, but she wasn't worried, because they were young and reckless of course Kenshin would win. He always won.   
  
And he did win. He was the only one left standing, caught midway through turning to greet her. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes startled and clear.   
  
And he was covered in someone else's blood.  
  
Kaoru's knees hit the tatami, her hand sliding down along the doorframe. She was going to be sick.  
  
Those weren't the eyes of a killer. They weren't the eyes she had seen those few, terrifying times that the hitokiri within him had struggled his way to the surface. When he'd saved her from Jin-Ei, when he'd lost control during his fight with Saito, his eyes had been those of a stranger, cold and distant.  
  
But now, now he was Kenshin, wholly and completely.  
  
She turned her head and vomited on the floor.  
  
"You have to pull yourself together," she muttered, wiping her mouth. "You've got to...you can deal with this, you've handled worse." This was a lie, and she knew it, but she dragged herself up the wall until she was standing again, took a shuddering breath, and opened the door.  
  
The ground was covered in blood. The three bodies that still had their heads were leaned in a careful row against the front wall. The fourth had been covered with Kenshin's gi. She fought down another wave of nausea and stumbled toward the back of the yard, feeling her way along the dojo wall.   
  
He was standing next to the well, soaking wet and holding a bucket in his hands. He was naked above the waist, red blood and red hair clinging to the bare skin of his back. She watched as he filled the bucket again and poured it over his head. His movements were careful and unhurried, and the normalcy of it made her want to scream.   
  
"Kenshin..." she said, choking on his name.   
  
His shoulders stiffened, but he did not turn around. "I am going to find Chief Uramura and tell him what happened. Please join the others at the Akabeko and wait for me there."   
  
"No," she mumbled, shaking her head. "No, no I don't want to leave you..."  
  
He looked at her, then, and she immediately wished that he hadn't. "You aren't safe with me," he said quietly. "It would be best if you stayed with Tae while the chief and I handle this."  
  
"How can you be so calm," she whispered. "How can you when you just...just..."  
  
"Killed a man."  
  
By saying it he made it real. The words pressed down against Kaoru's heart, crushing her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Her legs gave way and she tumbled forward.   
  
He caught her, of course, and his body was warm and solid and familiar against her cheek. But his sodden clothes smelled so strongly of death that it made her retch.  
  
"Kaoru, please, _please_ go the Akabeko," he said, pleading. "I don't want you to...you should not have to see this..."  
  
She pushed him away and forced herself to breath. "No," she said, the steel returning to her voice. "No, I'm not going anywhere without you."  
  
"But -"  
  
"Stop it," she said, with so much force that further arguments died on his lips. He watched as she slowly walked to where he had hung the laundry to dry, her hands trembling as she slid clean clothes from the polls. Her shoulders thrown back and her chin high and defiant, she thrust them into his arms and said, "Put these on."  
  
He dressed mutely as she watched. Though she had never seen him nude before, it didn't occur to her to look away. She wasn't going to lose sight of him again.  
  
When he finished, he slid his sword into his belt and finally met her eyes.   
  
"Let's go talk to the chief," she said, willing her voice not to shake. She slipped her arm around his, and he flinched but did not protest.   
  
They walked to the police station in silence.  
  
***  
  
Kaoru had to struggle to focus as Kenshin explained what had happened. She could see his mouth moving, but his voice seemed oddly distant; muffled and distorted, as if by water. She watched his face, hoping for some hint of emotion, but to no end. He had closed himself off. His words and his features were carefully neutral as he told Uramura the nature of the fight, the number of attackers, and the name of the dead man.   
  
Yes, he was sure they were from Satsuma. Yes, it had been a personal grudge. No, he had not bound the survivors. Yes, they would be gone by now. No, he did not think they were a danger to anyone else. Yes, they were likely to come looking for him again.  
  
Her vision blurred and she looked away, cheeks burning with the shame of her weakness. What right did she even have to be upset? He had enough of a burden to shoulder without her pointless dramatics. She was going to have to be there for him, to take care of him, to make sure...  
  
"Kamiya-san," said the chief. Kaoru jumped at her name, hastily dragging a sleeve across her eyes. "I would prefer it if you stayed with friends tonight instead of returning to your school. Just to be safe."  
  
"I will if Kenshin does," she said automatically.  
  
"There are matters I need to attend to, Kaoru-dono," said Kenshin, not looking at her. "I promise I will see you again before morning, but I would prefer to be alone until then."  
  
"I'll escort you to the restaurant, Kamiya-san," said Uramura kindly, offering an arm. She took it helplessly, and turned to try once more at convincing Kenshin not to go. But the room behind her was already empty.  
  
A short while later she sat in composed silence on the floor of the Gyu-Nabe Akabeko, staring down into the tea she held, dimly aware of the low buzz of conversation as Uramura retold Kenshin's story. It was Yahiko's voice that pulled her thoughts back to the present.  
  
"Why're _you_ telling us this?" he demanded. "Where's Kenshin?"  
  
"Himura-san had business to attend to elsewhere. He will return in the morning." Uramura lowered his cup to the table and stood, pulling down on the front of his uniform to straighten out the creases. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have to get back to the station. My shift doesn't end until dawn, and I shouldn't stay away for too long." There were polite goodbyes and well wishings on both sides, and then he left.  
  
"I don't believe it," said Tae as soon as he had gone. "He must have misremembered Ken-san's story."  
  
"Yeah," said Yahiko. "Kenshin would never -"  
  
"He was telling the truth," Kaoru whispered. The others turned to look at her. "I saw it, I saw what happened. He..." Her voice broke. "He..."  
  
"Shhh, you don't have to say it," Tae soothed, rubbing her shoulders.   
  
Kaoru shrugged her off. "It was an accident. An _accident_. He didn't mean..."  
  
"Yeah, well, that just makes it worse, doesn't it?" said Yahiko quietly.  
  
"Maybe," said Kaoru, "I don't know."  
  
"Is he going to leave again?" Tsubame whispered tremulously.  
  
"No," said Kaoru, surprised by her own conviction. "I don't care what he's done, he's still Kenshin. This is his home. I'm not going to let him go anywhere."  
  
They spoke very little after that, huddled over cold cups of tea in the empty restaurant. A plate of cakes that Tae had prepared sat untouched and forgotten on the table. Yahiko and Tsubame nodded slowly forward, their chins sinking down against their chests, until sleep finally took them. A few hours before daybreak, Tae mumbled something about having to do the dishes from last night, and shuffled off to the kitchen.  
  
Through all of this, Kaoru's eyes were fixed on the sky outside, watching dawn creep its way over the horizon.   
  
_He'll come_, she thought desperately. The first sounds of morning were drifting in from the street, and her heart pounded to the rhythm of cartwheels and the chatter of shopkeepers. _He loves me. He promised. He's never broken a promise, he's always come when he said he would. He loves me, he said he did, he's not going to...  
  
_But she couldn't bring herself to contemplate what he was or wasn't going to do. She couldn't think of him at all without remembering what he'd done, without remembering the stench of blood and the sound of a body falling to the dirt in two parts.  
  
It was eight o' clock when the door to the Akabeko swung open. Kaoru was on her feet and across the room in an instant.  
  
He was dressed for traveling, a small pack and twin bundles of provisions slung over his shoulders. His hair was pulled back into a high sagegami, and there were black tekko on his forearms. An unfamiliar wakizashi had joined the sakabatou at his waist.  
  
"I have to go," he said.  
  
"Then I'm going with you."  
  
"Alone," he said.  
  
"No," said Kaoru. "No, you can't leave, not again, not after everything we've been through." She could feel the panic clawing its way up her throat. "Nothing has to change. You're still Kenshin, you didn't turn into Battousai, you're still Kenshin..."  
  
"I _am_ Battousai!" he shouted, startling her into silence. "Don't you understand?"  
  
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, you're not, you're Kenshin, you-"  
  
"The Hitokiri Battousai," he said, "is a Himura Kenshin with hatred in his heart and blood on his sword, nothing more. I was a boy when they gave me that name, barely older than Yahiko and slaughtering the Shogunate in the name of a new era. And when all's said and done, that's what he is: a name, and a memory of times past."  
  
"That's not true!" Kaoru hissed. "I've seen you slip back into being a hitokiri, I've seen you make the decision to kill, and tonight wasn't one of those times! You didn't mean to do any of this, Kenshin! It was just a mistake, just a horrible mistake..."  
  
"Whatever my intentions, I killed tonight for the first time in ten years. That I did so against my will only means that I'm no longer fit to wield a sword."  
  
"Then stop!" she cried. "Stop being a swordsman! You've fought so hard for peace, Kenshin, it's enough!"  
  
"It will never be enough," he said. "I've killed hundreds of men. I killed my own wife. The only way that I can atone for crimes as horrible as these is to use my sword and my will to protect the innocents around me. No matter how weary I become, no matter how hard I have to struggle, I can't ever stop. To do so would be to rob the lives I've taken of meaning." He sighed and bowed his head. He had never looked as old as he did then. "I can't stop," he said again. "But I cannot continue, either. Not as I have been. Not anymore.  
  
"Do you remember what Megumi told us before returning to Aizu? My body is deteriorating. In a handful of years, Hiten Mitsurugi will leave me entirely. I had thought that I had a few seasons left in me, at least, but what happened yesterday proves that I've already lost control." He shook his head, unnervingly helpless. "It's easy to kill a man, Kaoru. It's much harder to save him. And it seems I no longer possess the necessary skill for that latter burden."  
  
Kaoru stared at him.  
  
"Do you understand what I'm saying," he asked softly. "Why I have to do this?"  
  
"I understand," she said, and a glimmer of relief passed over his features. "But I don't care."  
  
The relief vanished. "What..?"  
  
"I don't care about ideals or politics or atonement anymore," said Kaoru, drilling into his eyes with her own. "I'm finished with caring, finished with waiting for you, finished with worrying." She could feel him trying to look away, and held him in place with the ferocity of her glare. "All I care about is that you belong here, in Tokyo. With me."  
  
"It's not that simple," he said.  
  
"Yes it is," she said, her voice hoarse with the effort of standing her ground. "It's the simplest thing in the world. Don't go."  
  
"I have to."  
  
"No you don't." She longed to reach out to him, to feel his arms surround her, to forget what they had done. Her hands shook, balled into fists at her sides, and she closed her eyes so that his face could not weaken her resolve. "If you walk out of that door, Kenshin....if you leave me now, leave me like this...I never want to see you again."  
  
"Then this is goodbye," he said sadly.   
  
And he turned away from her, slow and deliberate, and disappeared into the morning bustle of the street.  
  
***  
  
Glossary:  
  
**Chan** - Affectionate, roughly meaning "dear."   
**Dono** - An archaic honorific, implying great respect.  
**Edamame** - Steamed and salted soybeans.  
**Gi** - Man's kimono.  
**Hakama** - Wide, loose pants worn over a gi.  
**Hitokiri** - Assassin, literally "Manslayer."  
**Men** - A strike to the head.  
**Obi **- Elaborate decorative belt worn with kimono.  
**Rurouni** - "Wandering swordsman," a term coined by Nobuhiro Watsuki. Based on the word "Ronin," which means masterless samurai.  
**Sagegami **- Ponytail  
**Sakabatou** - A sword with its cutting edge on the wrong side; "reverse-blade sword."  
**San **- General honorific, sometimes translated as "Mr." "Mrs." or "Ms." (ie Ms. Tae)  
**Shinai** - A sword made of four staves of bamboo, used for practicing Kendo.  
**Tabi **- Split-toed socks, worn with sandals.  
**Tatami **- Straw mats used to cover floors indoors.  
**Tekko** - Hand guards  
**Wakizashi** - Short sword  
  
***  
  
Author notes:  
  
Many many MANY thanks to Drea, Rene and Indi for beta reading this for me! It's my first real stab at Kenfic, and I never would have caught all my silly gaijin errors if it wasn't for them. ^_^

There are two illustrations for this chapter: [you have to take out the spaces...grr, ff . net]

diagon . org / temp / kenfic / kenleaving . jpg - "He was dressed for traveling..." 

diagon . org / temp / kenfic / kaorucry . jpg - "Her vision blurred and she looked away..." 

FINALLY, if you want to be notified of new chapters being uploaded, email me at redbeangurl at yahoo.com and I'll add you to the list! ^_^ 


	2. Black Tears

_Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki and Viz comics, not me. I am just borrowing him for my own, perverse, and totally non-profit amusement. ^_^x   
  
This fic contains MAJOR SPOILERS for the Jinchuu arc of the Rurouni Kenshin manga! If you want to get caught up before reading, you can find translations of the manga at Maigo-chan's site: maigo-chan . org / ruroken . htm [you have to take out the spaces...grr, ff . net]  
  
Illustrations for this fic can be found on the main page of my livejournal, which is linked to from my author page._  
  
  
  
Requiem for a Dream  
**Chapter Two: Black Tears**  
  
***  
  
Kaoru stood in the doorway of the Gyu-Nabe Akabeko and stared at the place where she had last seen him. She was not looking for him. She knew he wasn't there, would never be there again. She simply did not have the energy to turn away, and couldn't think of a reason to do so besides.  
  
She was still there when Tae came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.   
  
"Kaoru?" she said cautiously. "Where is Ken-san?"  
  
"Gone," said Kaoru.  
  
"'Gone?' Gone where?"  
  
"I don't know," said Kaoru.  
  
Tae's eyes widened. "Goodness...when will he be back? What did he say?"  
  
Kaoru shook her head. "He's just...gone," she whispered, swallowing hard. "I'm very tired, Tae-san. I think I'm going to go home. Please tell Yahiko where I am when he wakes up."  
  
"Of course, but..."   
  
"Thank you," said Kaoru. She left without looking up, the Akabeko already forgotten, the whole of her concentration focused on staying upright, on navigating streets and alleyways, on remembering to breath. She willed her feet to move, her knees to hold her, her heart to beat. She gripped the hem of her kimono to keep her hands from shaking.   
  
She was distantly aware of being stared at as she walked, catching her name in curious whispers. She stumbled through pockets of memory, jarred by the aggressive familiarity of storefronts and street corners. He had crouched by that wall as he fought the police swordsmen. Had his pocket picked by Yahiko on that bridge. Held her under those trees before leaving for Kyoto.   
  
Uramura had left a note for him on the gate. She opened and read it without thinking. It was a list of names that included Tanaka Yuki's. She pocketed the slip of paper and shuffled into the yard.  
  
The body was gone, as was the kimono that had covered it. But she could still see the scuffmarks of sandals in the dirt, and the dark stain that arced across the ground.   
  
She slid back the door of her house, walked to her room, picked up her mother's mirror, carried it to the kitchen, filled the washbasin with water, propped the mirror up on the windowsill, and looked at herself for the first time since yesterday.  
  
She had forgotten about the makeup. Her reasons for wearing it seemed an age past. Dark trails of eyeliner streaked from her eyes, tracing the paths of tears along her cheeks, mingling with hints of blush and white foundation. Her lipstick was a smear of red, dragged across her mouth by the back of her hand.   
  
She splashed her face with water, rubbing at the powders and pastes of cosmetics, the salt of dried tears, the sour traces of vomit that clung to the corners of her mouth. She washed away a night of shock and waiting and hopelessness. She watched a year of struggle and worry and doubt and love swirl with the water down the drain.   
  
She dried herself and walked back to her room. She carefully unwrapped the obi from her waist and slid her kimono from her shoulders. Each was folded and placed on the tatami at the center of the room. Another kimono and obi soon joined them. Then the lacquered box of cosmetics. Then her mother's hairpins. She changed into a hakama and gi, picked up the small pile from her floor and carried it into the room where he had slept.  
  
He had been a man of few possessions, but he had not taken everything with him. Soon her pile had grown a little, with spare clothes and ties for his hair, a cloth for polishing his blade, an outdated map of Honshuu that showed the old provinces, a well-worn photograph of a woman Kaoru didn't recognize. These things were wrapped in the comforter she had bought for him when they'd returned from Kyoto.   
  
She carried the bundle outside and across the yard, to the storage shed that stood at the back of the grounds. She left it with the dusty remnants of her childhood and locked the door behind her.  
  
Yahiko was waiting for her in front of the dojo, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What're you doing?" he asked blearily. "Where's Kenshin?"  
  
"Not here," she said simply. "I'm going to go make breakfast. What would you like?"  
  
"Whaddya mean, 'not here?'" asked Yahiko. "Where did he go?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Well, when's he getting back?"  
  
"He's not."   
  
Kaoru expected Yahiko to argue, to insist that they go searching for him, to demand an explanation for why she hadn't started already. However, he made no move to do so, now. He looked up at her gravely, his brows knitted as he considered her face. Their eyes met, his far older than they should have been, hers dry and red around the edges. A flicker of pain passed across his features, gone before she could even be sure it had been there.  
  
"I'll make the rice," he said finally. He reached out and took her hand, and they walked together across the yard and into the kitchen.   
  
***  
  
Kenshin did not know where he was going, other than away. He had chosen this road because it was small and unfamiliar, barely more than a dirt path that wound through evergreen forests and into the mountains. There were no inns, no post towns, no checkpoints. Only wilderness and the dry stubble of rice paddies after harvest.   
  
He felt himself slipping into old rhythms. While the weather was still warm, he would sleep under the trees, his back against the broad trunk of a cryptomeria and his sakabatou propped up on his shoulder. When winter set in, he would stop at one of the thatched-roof farmhouses, trading an afternoon's work for a night in their barn. His smile would win the trust of strangers when he needed it, and the swords at his belt would discourage them when he did not.   
  
He counted his footsteps as he walked, abstracting distance into the comfort of numbers. Each stride became a unit of measurement wholly separate from its purpose, which was to put as much distance as possible between himself and Tokyo. He listened to the rustle of his hakama, the scratch of his sandals on the dirt road, and tried very hard not to think about how she had looked when she told him she did not want to see him again.  
  
There were other travelers on the road, a group of young men dressed for a long journey. As Kenshin had no interest in company or conversation, he had fallen behind them and maintained a prudent distance. They showed no sign of having noticed him at all, and walked for many miles speaking quietly among themselves, leaving Kenshin alone to count in peace.  
  
He was at forty-two thousand, two hundred and fifty-three when the first drop of rain fell. At forty-two thousand, two hundred and eighty-seven, a distant snarl of thunder rumbled across the countryside. At forty-two thousand, three hundred and five, a fearsome wind tore through the pines and kicked up waves in the irrigation ditch beside the road.   
  
The group of travelers had stopped at a divide in the road, huddled under a broad umbrella made of bamboo and oiled paper. As Kenshin passed they looked up from the map they were holding and waved him over.   
  
"Do you know this prefecture at all?" asked the one holding the map. "This storm looks like it might get nasty. We thought we might want to find an inn."  
  
"It's a typhoon," said Kenshin shortly. "You can tell by the color of the sky."  
  
"Ah," said the man, frowning. "And the inn?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with this area," said Kenshin. He offered an almost imperceptible bow. "If you'll excuse me."  
  
They were the first words he had spoken since leaving the Akabeko, and his voice sounded strange in his ears. He turned and hurried away down the road, unable to stop the shiver that crawled down his back. The calm detachment of shock was broken. He was suddenly aware of the rain on his face and the wind that pulled at his clothes and made his joints ache with cold.   
  
He had lived on the road for most of his life, and he knew what that night would bring. If he didn't find a place to stay out of the storm, he would be half-drowned by morning, too tired and too sick to travel for several days.   
  
There were rapid footsteps behind him, and Kenshin's hand jerked toward the hilt of his sword as he turned to look. But it was only the map-reading traveler again, struggling with his umbrella against the wind. "There's a town nearby," he said, grinning through the rain. "We're going to go find a place to spend the night. Seeing as you're on your own, we thought you might want to come with us. Strength in numbers and all that."  
  
Kenshin hesitated, his fingers still brushing against the hilt. But they were not asking for him to join their party, only to walk with them into town. Surely he could handle such a small inconvenience for the sake of a dry futon and space on someone's floor.  
  
"Thank you," he said, and he followed them down a path which snaked through a small wood and across a stream before connecting with a much larger road.  
  
"You must be very brave or very foolish to ignore the edict against carrying swords," one of them said conversationally.  
  
"I'm a swordsman," said Kenshin. "I can't help my nature."  
  
"True enough," the other man murmured. He did not press the matter further.  
  
***  
  
When Tae came by the Kamiya dojo in the early afternoon, Yahiko was wrestling with futons in the yard. They had been dragged out of the house and hung on stout bamboo polls, and he was beating them with a bokken, throwing fine clouds of dust into the air. Kaoru stood a short distance away, sweeping the ground in front of the gate. It was tinged red as if with rust, but the shock of spattered black moisture was gone.  
  
"What's all this?" asked Tae.   
  
"What's it look like?" Yahiko grunted, straightening.  
  
"The place was due for a good clean," said Kaoru. She leaned the broom against the entryway and pushed the hair out of her face. "Out with the old, in with the new."  
  
"I suppose," said Tae. She looked around helplessly. This was clearly not what she had expected. "Ah...how are you, Kaoru-chan? Are you....feeling all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," said Kaoru.  
  
"But...Ken-san..."  
  
"I'm _fine,_" Kaoru grated, snatching up the broom again and stomping over to the futons.   
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Tae asked, trotting along after her.   
  
Kaoru thwacked the nearest futon with her broom, and a cloud of dust flew back from it that was thick enough to make her cough. "I think we have it under control," she said, aiming her next swing.   
  
"Are you sure? Nothing I could help you with?" Tae glanced at Yahiko. "Perhaps inside...? You have one less set of hands, after all, and -"  
  
Kaoru hit the futon so ferociously that the bamboo frame supporting it was overwhelmed. There was a sharp crack of splintering wood, and the structure tilted dramatically, causing the row of futons to slide along the polls toward the ground.  
  
Yahiko dropped the bokken and scrambled to rescue them, catching the loose end of the poll and hefting it up to his shoulders. Kaoru rushed to tie it back in place, mumbling apologies.  
  
"Maybe we could do the dishes," she said feebly when she was done.  
  
"Don't let her touch anything she can break," Yahiko grumbled, picking the bokken up off the ground.   
  
Tae did not speak again until they were in the kitchen, standing on either side of the washbasin with a stack of dirty rice bowls between them. "Now, tell me what's going on," she said, her voice low. She glanced out of the small window, as if to see if Yahiko could hear them.   
  
Kaoru reached for one of the bowls and started scrubbing at it, not wanting to look Tae in the eye. "I already told you, we're cleaning."  
  
"That's not what I mean!" Tae hissed. "_Where_ is Kenshin? When is he getting back?"  
  
"I don't know," said Kaoru flatly. "And he's not."  
  
"That's ridiculous," said Tae, her tone matter-of-fact. "He's in love with you. He wants to marry you and take care you of and give you a home full of children."  
  
Kaoru dropped the scrub brush back into the sink and rubbed her temples. "Tae, I really don't want to talk about this..."  
  
"What did he do to make you think he's not coming back?"  
  
"He said 'goodbye' to me...and it was the 'I'm never going to see you again' sort of goodbye, so don't try and tell me I'm overreacting."  
  
"But he's done this before!" said Tae. "This is just like when he left for Kyoto, and he came back from that, didn't he?"  
  
"Only because we all chased after him."  
  
"Then why aren't you doing that now? Why are you standing here in this kitchen when the man that you love is wandering off without you?"  
  
"You're being dramatic," said Kaoru, reaching for another bowl.  
  
"Answer the question!"  
  
"Because I don't _want_ to, all right?" Kaoru snapped. "I have better things to do with my life than sit around waiting for him to figure himself out. I told him he didn't have to go, I _told_ him that if he ran off like this again that I didn't want anything to do with him, and I _don't_."  
  
"But -"  
  
"If he cares so little about what he has here that he's willing to throw it away at the first sign of trouble, then I'm _done_ with him, Tae. I've had enough."  
  
Tae was quiet for a very long time. She picked up the pot that Yahiko had used to cook the rice, and it wasn't until she had washed and dried it and put it away that she spoke again. "Is that how you really feel, Kaoru-chan?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, then..." Tae sighed, leaning on the edge of the basin. "There's not much for me to say. Except that what I want is for you to be happy."  
  
"I am," said Kaoru, smiling a little. "Or at least, I will be."  
  
"All right," said Tae.  
  
Enough time had passed that when the two women slid back the door of the house, Yahiko had already moved on to another task. The futons had been neatly folded and stacked near the edge of the porch, replaced on the bamboo frames by the remains of yesterday's laundry. Yahiko had filled the lower rungs, and now struggled to pull the last of the sheets over a poll that was much to high for him to easily reach.  
  
Kaoru stopped in the doorway, watching him. This had never been his chore to take care of, not even when Kenshin was injured or away. Despite how much he'd grown in the last year, he was still too small to quite mange it on his own. But then, he was so young. He would be taller than Kenshin someday. Maybe even as tall as Sano...  
  
"Kaoru!" Tae gasped. "What's wrong?"  
  
It was only then that she noticed that she was crying. And as soon as the tears were acknowledged they tumbled out of her control, streaming down her face as she hid it behind her palms.  
  
***  
  
True to their word, his companions from the road had left him to his own devices as soon as they reached the inn. He had waited patiently just inside the entrance, wringing the rainwater out of his clothes and hair while they were shown to their rooms. Several maids tried to lead him over to the firepit at the heart of the inn, but their offers were refused with cool formality. He was not in the mood for female companionship.   
  
A short while later the proprietor returned, and Kenshin followed him obediently in the opposite direction, away from the raucous laughter that filtered through thin walls and paper screens. Kenshin suspected the maids had found someone else to busy themselves with.  
  
"Is this your first time in Yamanashi?" the innkeeper asked, holding his lantern aloft. He was old and worn around the edges, his skin like parchment in the soft light.   
  
"Yes," said Kenshin.   
  
"Not many travelers come by this way anymore," said the innkeeper. "There was a time when this road was one of the easier routes to Kyoto, you see, when Edo was still a han and even a lonely widow needed papers to cross the border." He raised the lantern to peer down a darkened hallway. "But without the old sekisho, there's really no need for a path as meandering as this one. They all walk the Tokaido, now, stopping at post towns for a night in a fancy Honjin.  
  
"Ah, but surely you're too young to remember any of that," he sighed, shaking his head. "Forgive an old man for rambling."  
  
"You'd be surprised at what I remember," Kenshin murmured.   
  
But the innkeeper was no longer listening, having slid aside the door to one of the rooms and bowed deeply as an invitation for Kenshin to enter before him. It was small but comfortable, with fresh, clean mats on the floor and an arrangement of late autumn flowers in the tokonoma. A futon and a light meal of pickled vegetables, cold fish and rice had already been laid out. The windows were tightly shuttered against the storm, rattling in the wind as it swirled past.  
  
"Please forgive the view," said the innkeeper. "You can usually see Fuji-san from here. Though I suppose on a night like this it can't be helped." When the younger man did not reply, he smiled, set the lantern down, and left.  
  
The meal was filling and well-prepared, but Kenshin was only distantly aware of this. He chewed and swallowed automatically, out of necessity more than desire. When he was finished, he left the dishes in the hall outside his room for a maid to collect in the morning.   
  
He slowly undressed, until he wore only his kimono, his hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck. There was no kamiza there, of course, but he murmured a few words for his parents and for his wife, gone but not yet forgotten. Then he put out the lantern, slipped under the futon's light blanket, and closed his eyes. He listened to the storm that raged beyond the shutters, the creak of swaying branches and the whistling of the wind as it forced itself through cracks in the inn's defenses. He saw her face through a drowsy haze, holding her arms out in welcome as she said goodbye, tears steaming down her cheeks despite her smiling mouth. And then he slept.  
  
***  
  
It was cold and windy in Tokyo that night, hints of a much larger storm grazing the city's western outskirts. Kaoru sat alone on the edge of her porch, a cooling teacup clasped in her hands, her bare toes tracing patterns in the dust. She had cried for hours, unable to stop, unable to speak, choking on sobs while Tae rubbed her back and murmured soft words of comfort. But now that the flood of grief had spent itself, her chest ached with emptiness.   
  
She knew that she should keep herself busy. That she should try and rebuild the reputation of her dojo, give more lessons at neighboring schools and find new students for her own. She should concentrate on Yahiko and his education, on making sure the essentials were taken care of, on finding a place for herself in a world that Kenshin was not in.  
  
She wanted to forget. She wished she did not care. But every object in her home, every person she saw was connected to him -- touchstones of memory she could not ignore. Tae had said it would take time to move on. Kaoru was not interested in waiting.  
  
***  
  
He woke to the sound of footsteps in the hallway, barely discernible beneath the howling wind but unmistakable once noticed. The groan of a loose floorboard, the soft hiss of a screen as it slid aside and back again, the faint crackling of straw tatami.   
  
There were four of them, young men of medium build, radiating ki that was nervous but determined. Kenshin kept his breathing even and his body relaxed, and listened as swords were unsheathed with a slow, metallic sigh.   
  
His sakabatou and wakizashi were on the floor next to him. He could overpower these men without too much effort, their inexperience obvious in the audible rasp of their breath. He walked through the necessary actions in his mind, disarmed and subdued his attackers in half a dozen ways, as many fatal as not, as they crept toward his futon.  
  
They were so close, he could feel the warmth of their bodies, sense the razor edges of swords being raised for a killing blow. But he made no move to interfere, unable to think of a reason why he should. Perhaps it would be best if it ended this way, an anonymous face in an unfamiliar landscape. A fitting end for a rurouni with blood on his hands.   
  
If he was never going to see her again, there seemed no point in struggling against fate.  
  
"For Yuki-kun," one of them whispered.  
  
"For Saigou-sama," answered another.  
  
Their swords whistled down through air.  
  
There was a sudden burst of rapid footfalls in the corridor. And then a crash of splintering wood and torn paper as someone burst through the screens, deafening after the near-silence of attempted assassination. There was a purposeful rush of movement, startled cries cut short by metal slicing through flesh and bone, the gentle patter of blood and the dull thud of bodies, a warm wash of moisture on Kenshin's face.  
  
He opened his eyes, reached belatedly for his sword, and sat up.  
  
A thin man in a policemen's uniform knelt in front of the tokonoma, his back to the room. He wiped the blood from his blade with a cloth, sheathed it, and place it carefully on the floor beside him.  
  
"About time you woke up," he said.  
  
"I've been awake since they reached the door."  
  
"In that case, I find your apparent death wish an amusing new development."  
  
Kenshin sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. They came away slick with blood. "What are you doing here, Saitou?" he asked, staring at them in the darkness.  
  
A soft chuckle. "At the moment? Protecting you from your own stupidity."  
  
Kenshin surveyed the room, lit only by strangled beams of moonlight that crept through the shutters. There were three corpses in varying stages of dismemberment. Kenshin recognized them as the other travelers staying at the inn, the ones he had met on the road. "Was it really necessary to kill them?"  
  
"Probably not," said Saitou. "But I think you may have forfeited the right to complain when you decided to lay there like a sack of rice. Besides, I left one of them alive." He pointed to the fourth man, who was missing both legs below the knee, and had dragged himself part way across the room.  
  
Kenshin stood, picking up his blanket and tearing it into strips as he knelt beside the survivor. "Hold still," he muttered. Saitou watched him with a closed expression as he dressed the man's wounds, smearing them with the ointment Megumi had given him before wrapping them in bandages.   
  
"I assume you let him live so you could question him," Kenshin said when he had finished. "I'm going to go downstairs and tell the innkeeper what happened. Finish your business with this man while I'm gone. I'd rather not witness one of your interrogations."  
  
Kenshin rose, walked across the room and stepped over the remains of the door. He found the innkeeper and one of the maids hovering at the end of the hall, their faces white with fear. The innkeeper held a candle, and its light cast trembling shadows on the walls.   
  
"I was attacked," said Kenshin.   
  
"There's a policeman," whispered the maid, "a policeman with a sword, he's in another room just down -"  
  
"I've already spoken with him," said Kenshin. "Please wait downstairs while we sort things out."  
  
"But the other guests!" the innkeeper protested. "What if they ask questions?"  
  
"Is there anyone staying here tonight aside from myself, the policeman, and the party I arrived with?"  
  
"N-no..."  
  
"Then there won't be any questions."  
  
***  
  
Kenshin waited at the end of the hall for some time after the innkeeper and maid had gone. The storm was still loud enough to muffle the sounds of Saitou's inquiry, though an occasional cry of pain managed to cut through the din, making Kenshin cringe. He had never enjoyed the suffering of others, not even as a Hitokiri.   
  
When the screams had faded entirely, he returned to what was left of his room.   
  
The bodies had not been moved. But Saitou had dragged the last man across the floor and propped him up in the tokonoma, the walls of the small alcove keeping him forcibly upright. The vase of flowers had been placed on the floor next to him in a bizarre juxtaposition, the fiery orange blossoms of aster bleached of color in the moonlight. He was mercifully unconscious, and the bandaged stumps of his legs were soaked in blood.   
  
Kenshin picked up his neatly folded hakama. He shook them out, briefly checked them for obvious patches of damp red, then pulled them on. "Did you get what you wanted?" he asked, carefully tying them in place.  
  
"Some," said Saitou. He pulled off his bloodstained gloves one finger at a time, first the left and then the right, and drew a small pouch and a box of rolling papers from his breast pocket. "He wasn't nearly as useful as his friends in Tokyo proved to be."  
  
Kenshin paused midway through fastening a tekko to his forearm. "Who do you mean?"  
  
Saitou tapped a line of tobacco onto one of the translucent papers, his tongue flickering out to wet the edge. "The men who attacked you at the Kamiya girls' dojo."  
  
"You caught them?"  
  
"Of course I did."  
  
"What did they say?"  
  
Saitou lit the cigarette, the end flaring suddenly red as he inhaled. He held the smoke in his lungs for a long, luxurious moment, then blew it slowly through pursed lips. "Why the sudden curiosity?"  
  
Kenshin looked away, finishing with the tekko. "Those men were old comrades of mine from the Seinan War. They heard of my dealings with Minister Oukubo and felt I had betrayed the memory of their master. If there's more to their quarrel with me, I feel that I should know about it."  
  
"The man you killed..." Saitou drew out the last word, openly savoring the reaction. "Do you recall his name?"  
  
"Tanaka Yuki."  
  
"And do you know why his death might prove disruptive?" Kenshin's silence was enough of an answer. Saitou chuckled low in his throat. "Perhaps Beppu Shinsuke is more familiar?"  
  
Kenshin struggled beneath a flood of memory. "Saigou-sama's second-in-command," he said, his voice as neutral as he could manage.  
  
"He stepped aside as head of the Kagoshima Shigakkou a short time after you left. Tanaka took his place, and was largely responsible for rebuilding Satsuma after the rebellion. Now that he's dead, the Shigakkou will likely dissolve within six months, assuming they aren't absorbed by other ryuu first." Saitou gestured vaguely at the corpses that surrounded them. "These were friends of his." He pointed to each of them in turn, and then to the unconscious man in the alcove. "Nomura Taisuke, Mutsu Kinmochi, Kouno Momonosuke and the slightly more fortunate Itou Shoujijou, who was kind enough to clarify a few issues for me."  
  
Kenshin knelt on the floor and reached for his tabi. "Such as?"  
  
"There's been talk of rebellion ever since the last one ended. Tanaka was against it -- he knew Kagoshima couldn't take the strain of another war -- but a rival school kept stirring up trouble with the younger samurai. Up until now, our intelligence suggested it was just an upstart ryuu looking to make a name for themselves, but Itou-san here seemed to think otherwise."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"Only that there've been more than the usual number of unfamiliar faces," said Saitou. He tapped his cigarette on the edge of the vase of flowers, the ashes hissing softly as they hit the water inside. "And that Tanaka would never have thought to go after you if a man named Kotaro hadn't suggested it."  
  
Kenshin blinked at him. "Kotaro Ryokichi?" he asked hoarsely, the breath suddenly pushed from his lungs.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
Kenshin looked away, pulling his hair into a high sagegami. "We've met."  
  
"How nice for you," Saitou drawled, a wisp of smoke curling around his face as he stubbed out his cigarette on Itou's bandages. He watched as Kenshin stood, picked his swords up off the floor and tied them to the belt of his hakama. Saitou seemed particularly amused by the wakizashi.   
  
"What?" Kenshin snapped.  
  
Saitou took his time in answering, casually occupied with rolling another cigarette. "Have you decided to return to your former profession?"   
  
"No."  
  
Another pause as the cigarette was lit. "You're dressed for the part."  
  
"It seemed appropriate," said Kenshin, lowering his eyes.  
  
"Have you abandoned your idiotic vow not to kill?" Saitou purred.  
  
"Unwillingly."  
  
"A permanent change?"  
  
Kenshin's fingers traced the lines of the sakabatou's hilt, its leather wrappings newly stiff with blood. "I don't know."  
  
Saitou smiled. "Then perhaps there's hope for you, yet."  
  
***  
  
She was nearly finished packing by sunrise. Tae woke a short while later, and found her squatting on the floor of her room with a drawstring bag open in front of her.  
  
"Kaoru-chan, what are you doing?"  
  
Kaoru looked up from the hakama that lay half-folded in her lap. "Packing," she said simply.  
  
"Well, obviously," Tae sighed, kneeling beside her. "But what are you packing _for_? Where are you going on such short notice?"  
  
Kaoru added the hakama to a neat pile of her belongings and slipped them into her bag. "Kyoto."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"I need to get away from here for a few days," said Kaoru. She pulled the bag closed. "There's too much of him in this house."  
  
Tae stared at her incredulously. "And there isn't in Kyoto?"  
  
"He was a different person, then," Kaoru murmured. "Kyoto reminds me of a Himura-san I barely know."  
  
"Oh, so it's 'Himura-san,' now?" said Tae, fixing her with a narrow look.  
  
Kaoru scowled. "I'm tired of hearing his name, all right? And I can't call him 'Battousai'..."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because that's not who he is anymore," said Kaoru, in a tone not meant to be argued with.   
  
But Tae wasn't ready to give up. "Who will you stay with?" she asked sharply.  
  
"Misao-chan and Aoi-sama."  
  
"But they don't know you're coming!"  
  
"I'll send a telegraph."  
  
"That's so expensive!"  
  
"Good thing you're not paying for it, then."  
  
Tae shook her head. "Kaoru-chan, I -"  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
Both women turned toward the door to Kaoru's room. Yahiko was standing in the hall, his hair mussed and his eyes half-lidded, still wearing the light kimono that he slept in. He stifled a yawn. "Why're you two up so early?"  
  
"I have to go away for a little while," said Kaoru. "I was hoping to catch the first train."  
  
"Are you going to look for Kenshin?"  
  
Kaoru tried her best not to flinch. "I don't think he wants to be looked for," she said.  
  
Yahiko considered this for a moment. "I should probably stay here at the Dojo, then," he said, in a businesslike tone that would have been comical had any other boy his age attempted it. "Leave me some cash so I don't starve, all right?"  
  
"All right," said Kaoru. She stood, pulling the bag over her shoulder. "Take care of Tae and Tsubame-chan. I'll be back soon."  
  
She handed him a small purse, pulled him into brief but no doubt mortifying hug and left, hurrying down the roads of Asakusa before she could think better of it.  
  
***  
  
Kenshin stood quietly to the side as Saitou explained a sanitized version of what had happened to the local police, sharing just enough information about the unconscious survivor to guarantee they would keep him in their custody. The chief recognized the name Fujita Goro, and when a connection to Uramura was mentioned he accepted Saitou's story without question.  
  
"If that's all," Saitou was saying, unnervingly polite, "my companion and I really must be going."  
  
"Of course, of course" said the chief. "We can manage things from here. I'm sorry that such a thing happened in my district."  
  
Saitou offered a polite smile and an appropriately humble bow, then slipped away from the gathering crowd before anyone else could delay him. Kenshin joined him a few yards down the road, and they walked together for nearly a mile before either man spoke.  
  
"The Koshu Kaido is just north of here," said Saitou, breaking the silence.  
  
Kenshin raised an eyebrow. "And?"  
  
"That would be the fastest route to Kyoto."  
  
"I'm not going to Kyoto," said Kenshin.  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
Kenshin snorted. "You know where I'm going, Saitou. You wouldn't be here, otherwise."  
  
Saitou grinned. "Indulge me. Your little mission statements are always good for a laugh."  
  
Kenshin watched the road pass under him, collecting his thoughts. "Kagoshima is in decline," he said. "The Shigakkou schools that were Saigou-sama's legacy have grown weak and easily corrupted, and the one man who stood in the way of hopeless rebellion is dead by my own hand." Kenshin raised his head, looking up at Saitou though a curtain of fringe. "What can I do but return to Satsuma and try to set things right again?"  
  
"Go back to Tokyo and bed that homely Kamiya girl." Saitou's words were slow and measured, calculated to draw out a reaction. He was visibly disappointed when Kenshin declined to provide one. "Though I suppose that's not an option," he said finally. "Not for you."  
  
"No," said Kenshin. "Not for me."  
  
***  
**  
Glossary:  
**  
**Bokken** - Wooden sword, used for practice.  
**Han** - Domain held by a daimyou (warlord). Also translated as "clan" and "fief."  
**Honjin** - The largest inn in a post town.  
**Honshuu** - Largest of the Japanese islands, where Kyoto and Tokyo are located.  
**Kagoshima** - A prefecture formerly known as Satsuma; also a city within it.  
**Kamiza** - A small shinto shrine; a home for spirits, particularly those of one's ancestors.   
**Koshu Kaido** - One of the major highways between Tokyo and Kyoto.  
**Post Town** - Designated rest stops along the major highways in the Tokugawa era.  
**-Sama** - Respectful honorific.  
**Satsuma** - Southernmost province on the island of Kyuushuu during the Tokugawa era; led by Saigou into rebellion against the Meiji government in 1877.  
**Seinan War** - Another name for the Satsuma Rebellion.  
**Sekisho** - Inspection stations along the major highways.  
**Shigakkou** - Private military academies founded by Saigou Takamori.  
**Tokaido** - The busiest of the highways between Tokyo and Kyoto. (Lit. "Tokai Road.")  
**Tokonoma** - A decorative alcove, used for displaying scrolls, flower arrangements and other art objects.  
**Yamanashi** - A prefecture west of Tokyo.  
  
***  
  
First off, thanks so much to my amazing, talented and unbelievably PROMPT betas, Jaida, Rene and Drea!! You guys rock my world. I was really nervous about this chapter, and you helped calm me down enough to finish the thing and just POST it already. ^_-  
  
Many thanks, also, to everyone who was kind enough to review my last chapter: White Moon Universe Guard, yoshi1013 (I can't believe you forgot the beheading, you dorque XD ). Wolf ^-^X (he might come back....or, he might not....muahahaha!!), beriath, Sephira jo (I might do an AU at some point, but dun worry - this one's strictly canon), dreadono (you rox, babe), Aharah Musici (Kenshin's outta there for now....but Sano might show up, eventually ^_-), Faint (eep *writes*), Lilfrozenfire, Sean Montgomery (hope you weren't disappointed!), Chiri (GEH, still need to read your fic O_o), joyouschild (I'm so glad I convinced you with my Ken/Kaoru! I was really worried about that, actually :) ), dee and Resmiranda (you and your smut demands!! ^_-)  
  
So...yes! Hope that everyone liked it! If I'm lucky, the next chapter won't take quite so long ^_^


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